


i feel it burning me

by chansleftchiddy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fantasizing, Gen, Grinding, M/M, Masturbation, Pillow Grinding, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, but on a pillow, johnny is here if you squint, why isnt that a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chansleftchiddy/pseuds/chansleftchiddy
Summary: A light sheen had started to cover his body and it made him shine in the low light of his bedroom. The speckled droplets on his shoulders giving him the image of glitter as he moved his hands over himself.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	i feel it burning me

**Author's Note:**

> ok so three things  
> 1) i wrote this in like an hour or something ages ago because i was bored  
> 2) if you think you recognise this its probably because you do (i posted this on twitter when i first wrote it (also hmu @/futureoffern))  
> 3) the title is from "the beach" by the nbhd because its a banger
> 
> enjoy

Mark had his body stretched out over the moss green bed sheets, phone in hand as he scrolled through meme after meme on Twitter. He shifted his upper body lightly to the right until a few of the vertebrae in his back popped quietly and he sighed out of his nose in mild relief. He fiddled with a loose thread on the outer seam of his sweatpants, alternating unevenly between twisting it around the tip of his index finger and pulling at it lightly.

As he became more engrossed in the contents of his phone and the memories of the day, his concentration began to slowly slip further away from him, allowing his hand to roam wherever it pleased. It played with the fabric of his pants and the soft sheets next to him until it came to rest at the apex of his thighs. Still absorbed in the device, he began to leisurely and subtly palm himself until finally, a breathy whine made its way out of his mouth minutes later.

The arm holding his phone up to his face fell down onto the bed as he looked down his body, past the rumpled folds of his dark hoodie until he spied the swell of his bulge that had begun to appear. He trailed his hand along his length until he was able to thumb at the head through the fabric, reveling in the zing it sent up his spine and the spark of warmth that ignited in the depths of his stomach. 

Mark paused for a moment, considering his options of either going back to doing nothing or taking some  _ time for himself _ . He moved so that he was more comfortable in his position on his back and skirted both his hands up and under his hoodie, subsequently pushing it out of the way for one arm to curl around his abdomen soothingly and the other to twist at his nipples, running his fingertips over the sensitive pink skin until he couldn’t help the way his chest lifted up into the contact; searching for more.

He pinched at both of the stiffened buds and rolled them in a practiced way that made him yelp. He took in a deep and shuddering breath and allowed it to naturally catch on its way back out. 

Placing one hand in the center of his chest, he dropped the other one to linger around his low-riding waistband. He lightly scraped his dull fingernails over the thin and sensitive patch of skin between the joints of his pelvis and his groin. 

He slipped his right hand under the hem of the well-worn garment and pushed it down along with the top of his underwear until there was just enough room for him to circle a comforting hand around the base of his cock, flushing at the warmth of the skin there. He alternated between continuing to play with his chest and puffy nipples and casting his forearm over his eyes, whining all the same while he sluggishly fisted his cock just tight enough for the subdued wet sound of the slide of precum to hang in the air beside the echoes of his whimpers.

Mark flipped himself over and rolled his hips down languidly against the pillow that he had haphazardly shoved under himself, his arms wrapped around it tightly. With each grind forward the elastic waistband of his underwear was pulled lower from where it sat midway across his shaft and dug into the tender skin on his hipbones. The angry red head of his cock peeked out and smearing precum over his stomach and the grey pillowcase, leaving a small stain that was dark, damp, and slightly sticky.

He allowed his mind to briefly slip to someone else touching him or whispering in his ear. Someone with bigger hands, bigger shoulders, bigger muscles,  _ bigger everything _ . He allowed the thoughts that plagued him every day to keep him company under the setting sun and orange sky of Seoul instead of burying them underground again. He pictured calloused hands on his hips, controlling the push and pull of his body against the soft plushness of the pillow. He pictured one of the hands dragging a finger down to his hole, applying light pressure against it. Mark moved his own hand to follow the image. 

_ ‘You look so pretty here, baby.’ _

Mark croaked out a moan at that and buried his face further into the pillow under him while he tapped a hand around on the bedside table for the small and half-empty bottle of lube that he had stolen off of Yukhei some months prior. He shuffled the rest of the way out of his pants, opting to keep the soft hoodie on despite the rising heat in the tangerine-shaded room. He clicked open the bottle and watched as the liquid dripped quickly onto his fingertips and coating them in a way that made Mark’s mouth water.

He cast the bottle to the side hurriedly and pressed his fingers against his rim again, breathing shallowly in anticipation as he used one arm to hold his upper body up and away from the bed. He pressed the first finger in gently until it was buried in him up to the first knuckle. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His head dropped so that his chin touched his chest. He opened his eyes and watched as his cock twitched quietly from where it hung, heavy and ruddy, between his kneeling legs and above another imminent-stain. 

He pulled the digit almost the entire way out before pushing it forward again, this time with more force. A light sheen had started to cover his body and it made him shine in the low light of his bedroom. The speckled droplets on his shoulders giving him the image of glitter. 

Taking his sweet time, he introduced more fingers into himself all while avoiding where he wanted them to be the most. He had held back, drawn out the action and  _ basked _ in the sensation of being filled when he finally pushed the third finger past his pink rim to where the others lay.

Waiting.

He indulged in the feeling of taking himself apart more and more with each spread of his fingers and stretch of his walls. The softness of himself was almost unbearable and his body quivered with every well-placed stroke and ecstasy-ridden drag over the muscles inside of him. His legs shook underneath him every time he brushed over or bumped his prostate and pulled high pitched and clipped moans from him. Between the hand on his cock that was touching him just right, tightening on the upstroke and twisting slightly just before the head, the pads of the three fingers he had stuffed deep inside of him abusing his prostate in tight circles, and the way his face and chest were pressed into the mattress - he was in heaven.

He flipped himself over to lie on his back and quickly re-entered himself before the feeling of being empty could consume him and resumed his actions. The wet sounds of lubricant and precum complimented the thick smell of sweat and arousal in such a licentious and flirty way that Mark would’ve felt guilty for enjoying it so much if he had been less preoccupied. He panted out his breaths and swiveled his hips to match the curling of his fingers better, drawing up his legs and riding on his pleasure higher and higher - until it broke like the crest of a wave and washed over him. Smooth and scalding hot across his body while his blood rushed in his ears.

He worked himself through his orgasm with a loud shout and a series of oversensitive mewls, unceasing in his movements of both hands over his sensitive areas. White ropes painted his stomach and saturated the bottom of the hoodie where it had slipped down and into the line of fire. The strings of hot cum that coated him made his senses shut down. He could only focus on the buzzing that filled his body and convened deep inside of him.

As he lay there, still yet chest heaving, his muscles pulled taut briefly every few seconds to cause his back to arch up or his hips to buck off the bed shallowly. The warm pool in his stomach now replaced by a sated feeling that covered him like a blanket.

He debated getting out of bed to clean up. He knew from experience that waking up with traces of crusted cum caked onto his skin was a terrible experience to start the day with. He refused to think about the way that the leftover lube would cling to his skin and slide uncomfortably.

Despite this, he still found himself stripping off his last article of clothing and using it in an attempt to weakly wipe away the smears on his stomach and inner thighs before crawling under the crumpled and creased covers of his bed. He allowed sleep to take over him and lure him from a state of warmth and exhaustion to one of tranquility as his breathing evened out and the sun finished it’s drawn-out final stage, soaking the room in darkness. 


End file.
